Sayaka von Seckendorff: Second Life
by ant0nym
Summary: What happens when you die? Well, if your experience is anything like mine, you're in for a strange trip. At least, if you happen to die inside a witch's barrier. Swords and sorcery. Very Alternate Universe. 2nd take on a side project, now 30% better.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I don't own Pathfinder, Dungeons and Dragons, or any of the openly shared stuff on Paizo. Lots of the details come from the Inner Sea campaign setting.

Chapter 1: Not really a Chapter. More a glossary.

**Cast of Characters**

**Sayaka von Seckendorff.** That's me.

**Nethys.** A half burnt man who says he's a god.

**Amaya.** An exotic-looking, grey-skinned sorceress with powers over shadow. She carries no weapons.

**Taj.** A roguish young man with the mannerisms of a snake-oil merchant. Fights with two daggers.

**Lodrin (son of Borin)**. A dwarf. Bearded, stocky, reliable. Devote follower of another god called Abadar.

**Malgos.** An elf warrior in magnificent plate armor. Wields a large, curved sword just like a_ No-dachi._

**Tad.** Not to be confused with Taj. Another human, this one a rough looking survivalist-type with a strange, part-cat-part-dog companion.

**Planes**

_A Planar Primer_

What are the planes? It took me a while to understand that people weren't talking about flying machines I remember from before, they were talking about different layers of reality. Like, alternate dimensions and stuff. Pretty crazy. Especially when they overlap.

"Yet even beyond this existence of countless planets exist more worlds—entirely different dimensions of reality known as the planes of existence. Except for rare linking points that allow travel between them, each plane is effectively its own universe with its own natural laws. Collectively, the entirety of these other dimensions and planes is known as the Great Beyond.

"Although the number of planes is limited only by imagination, they can all be categorized into five general types: the Material Plane, the transitive planes, the Inner Planes, the Outer Planes, and the countless demiplanes." Paizo dot com, Pathfinder Core Rulebook


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: the beginning**

I woke up on a beach. The endless crashing of waves, softly lapping at the sandy shore, is the first thing I remember.

I opened an eye, groaning. A blinding spear of light cut into my brain, instantly triggering a massive headache. I groaned again, trying to put a hand to my head-

Then I was rolling over, retching my guts out. It was a torrent, spewing clear water for what felt like minutes. When it was over, I collapsed, shivering and exhausted.

Something was wrong.

It was a nagging, insistent thought that wormed its way through my misery. Oh god it hurt! My stomach felt like it had been stabbed from the inside, my head was about to split apart from the increasingly painful pressure, and every muscle in my body felt like my legs used to the day after our annual 5k run in Phy Ed.

The waves continued to crash upon the shore, and I slowly became more aware of my surroundings. Most irritating, I began to itch with growing discomfort, grains of the fine sand encrusted in my hair, across my body, itching…

Groaning again, full of self-pity at this point, I shifted my head, glancing down.

Something was wrong, all right. No clothes. No wonder it was so itchy.

_What the hell? _I wondered. This wouldn't do. Then I froze, feeling something even more important was missing. No ring. No soul gem.

I got up on an elbow, my head hanging pathetically. I felt weak, but was emboldened by the gradual softening of the headache, and my stomach had settled down. I glanced around, then stopped, staring.

I saw, in one direction, a beach stretching along to the horizon, seemingly endless. It was breathtaking, the pale sandy shore and the azure water beyond stretching towards forever, pink clouds and a warm glow under the sun behind my back. I could see a trail in the sand leading up from the water to where I lay. The smell, and the salty taste in my mouth, told me I was looking at an ocean or a sea.

But it was eerily empty. No ships could be seen in the water, no people along the coast. I stood up shakily, brushing the worst of the clinging sand off, and walked down to the water. Stepping in, I strode out a few paces before dunking myself in.

I _felt _something. I wasn't actually touched, or anything, but I felt this sudden sense of… malevolent hunger, I guess I'd call it. From somewhere nearby, aimed at me. I often go with my gut when in doubt, but this was somehow more than intuition. It was too vivid. Gasping, I stood up and quickly headed back to the beach, feeling immediately foolish at my jumpiness even as my heart raced in fright. Things were strange enough, no need to panic-

Screaming, I ran in panic as the thing emerged from the water in a geyser of spraying droplets. A long, snake-like neck emerged first, hurtling towards the beach in my direction. I noticed this while looking over my shoulder in horrified dismay, seeing the hundreds of needle-like teeth in the thing's horrific maw with perfect detail. I stumbled, and my heart, which was racing like an excited hummingbird, abruptly stopped.

I took a deep breath as I recovered, stumbling, pouring every ounce of energy into running up the treacherous beach as my heart kicked into overdrive. The soft, shifting sand made it difficult to find purchase, and every time I nearly fell I couldn't help looking back in utter terror.

The thing was like something out of a monster movie. Or Loch Ness. A large, sleek body with immense, powerful flippers had emerged behind the long, sinuous neck. Thick and rippling with powerful muscle, the thing had propelled itself ashore maybe thirty feet before stopping. I kept running, watching as it slowly turned around and waddled back into the water.

I kept running.

* * *

Half an hour later, I'd collapsed on the thick, lush carpet of grass, gasping and trembling. I'd begun to see signs of life, but the animals I'd encountered were unlike anything I'd seen before, strangely colored birds and large, dangerous looking reptiles.

Cursing myself for a fool, I'd tried to transform. I'd been desperate for a way to defend myself, but would stay desperate for the time being. Nothing happened. It was like everything I'd been connected with, had known how to do back before, was gone. Locked away, or missing, or something.

Spotting a solid-looking rock, I picked it up. Better than nothing.

At this point, things were looking pretty bleak. I had woken up, sans clothing, on a strange beach, with no powers. I'd been attacked by a monster that strongly reminded me of a picture out of a dinosaur book. The last thing I remembered was… well, painful. Vague, but full of misery. Shouting at a friend, ignoring the advice of an enemy and … too stupid, too stubborn to realize that someone I'd thought was an enemy was in fact the opposite.

Something about red hair… I remember giving up. Giving in. I was consumed by a sense of shame. This must be my punishment. This must be Hell.

I'd been heading toward what looked like a forest in the distance, hopeing to upgrade the fist-sized rock I'd picked up with something longer and pointer. I definitely did not feel safe, but, I supposed, that was probably how you were supposed to feel in the realm of eternal suffering.

It wasn't fair. I'd tried to be good, done my best. The unbidden thought echoed through my head, words of my mother. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. It had never made sense to me, just something old people say, but now… All that suffering I'd caused, my selfishness, the ramifications of my failure… She'd tried to warn me. I'd been too stupid, too angry and upset and filled with an angst that made me thirst for oblivion.

My eyes went wide with realization. I could recall, vividly, being a… a mermaid. I know how it sounds, but… an armored mermaid, and I'd been so mad I'd lashed out at anything, not realizing it was friend, not knowing it was my _friends_, and the redhead had done what I couldn't. She'd protected her, and saved me. At the cost of her own-

I shook my head. None of that made any sense. Or, currently, any difference. As if the cosmos chose that moment to prove my point, a large figure emerged from behind a ridge of tall grass, it's posture stoop-shouldered and aggressive. As it shuffled toward me, holding what appeared to be ropes in one hand, I scrambled back to my feet, trying to will my leaden limbs into motion.

The creature was almost like a man, a tall, thickly muscled man, but it's skin was an olive green, and the thing's face would have made me wet my pants, if I'd had pants and hadn't already emptied myself while being chased by the aquatic dinosaur. It was hideously deformed, with small, black, beady eyes deeply set underneath a sloping brow that would have done a caveman proud. It's jaw was wide, jutted out in a horrific underbite. It was maybe forty feet away, coming right at me, and I could make out the twisted, snaggled teeth that poked out of it's mouth. The thing began to shout in a harsh, guttural series of barking noises, and I spun around to run toward the forest.

I'd taken maybe ten strides when I felt something burning my ankle, and then I was falling head-first into the grass. I realized with a painful attempt to rise that something was holding my legs. Looking down, I saw a thick rope wrapped between my lower legs, which had smooth rocks tied to the end. I fumbled with the rope, but it was too twisted, and then the large, menacing figure was standing over me, it's pig-eyes glaring intensely at me, and I felt a sick wave of fear wash over my soul.

I threw my rock at the approaching brute, feeling hopeless as I watched it bounce off the thick hide the creature wore without effect, at least damage-wise. The hideous face twisted into a snarl as it lunged forward, thick-fingered hands grasping at my throat.

_Goddammit all to hell_, I thought in despair.

* * *

I blinked.

"I won't be doing that, since I play no part in the governance of the infernal realms, but since you called…"

I was standing on an island, surrounded by water. I could tell, somehow, that this was a freshwater lake, maybe from the smell, or being able to see the far shoreline in several directions. Strange, glowing orbs seemed to hover in midair, hard to distinguish in the strong afternoon light.

"_What_ the… what?" I blinked again. _Wasn't I just laying on the ground? _I turned to look at where the voice had come from. I glanced down, noticing the familiar short dress, the revealing but comfortable blue battle-brassiere, feeling the long white cape hanging limply from my shoulders.

"I thought you may be more comfortable this way. An interesting, if impractical, outfit for your profession." There was a man, standing along the rocky shoreline a few meters away. In profile, he looked quite handsome; strong jaw, regal nose, a slightly mischievous look in his eye as he stared into the distance. He was haloed in a nimbus of glowing light. I felt like he must be staring at something important, so I followed his gaze, seeing hills and plains and forests stretching out into the distance, but otherwise nothing spectacular.

"It's not there yet. You'll see it, though," the man muttered, and when he did, he turned in my direction.

So close, I was able to make out every detail. The side that I'd seen in profile regarded me imperiously, almost expectantly, like I was supposed to be doing something. The other half of his face… I stared, horrified, at the cracked and blackened skin that seemed to cover the entire left side of his body. The flames burned even now, and I realized that I had been kept from seeing them before, the licking, crackling fire glowing brilliantly for a moment. Part of the man's face raining down in crumbling cinder. _Oh my god, _I thought, ready to freak out if he got any closer.

"That's what I'm here to discuss, actually," the man smirked. "If you're interested in a patron, I'm offering my services. You don't belong here, that much is obvious. Being a newcomer to this… place, I realize you may have some questions."

Hell yes I had questions! "Who the hell are you?" was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

His unburnt eye narrowed. "I am Nethys."

For some reason, that was enough. "Is this Hell?"

The burning man, Nethys, looked around as if perplexed. I got a sense that a lot of his mannerisms were for show. When he'd shared his name, I'd gotten a glimpse at a vast, incomprehensibly powerful mind, something terrifyingly complex and, most disturbingly, seemingly at war with itself. "This is a world, not entirely dissimilar to your own. The hells are far worse; you'd know if you were in one of the infernal realms. I advise against that experience."

"So, this is…"

"This, _here_, is an island, in the middle of a lake, south of a soon-to-be-important place. This island is currently unoccupied, and has properties that allow me greater… access, I suppose you could say. When you awoke, you were over a thousand of miles south of here, along the coast of what the mortals of this world call the Inner Sea. You're still there, actually; this is more like a dream." The man turned to face me full on, and I could feel the heat, the _energy_, rolling off him in waves.

"A… dream?" I asked, pinching myself. The man's eyes regarded me with curiosity.

"That doesn't mean it isn't real. You are an interesting anomaly. Before we continue, tell me of the circumstances surrounding your arrival."

I talked for what seemed like hours, unable to stop myself. The words just poured out.

* * *

"Ah, so that was it. We felt another like us being born."

"Like you?" I couldn't resist asking. _Is this guy using the royal We?_ His eyes blazed as he turned his gaze toward me. One of them quite literally.

"A god," the man stated, as if it were obvious. "And I'm not that pretentious. I'm talking about the plethora of gods that are interested in the goings on of this specific… planet, I suppose would be your word for it."

_Shit, can it read my thoughts?_

It's eyes narrowed, causing the beam erupting from his left eye to shimmer dangerously. "I am a _god_, you foolish girl, of course I can read your thoughts." For a moment, his voice was like thunder, and I couldn't keep from cringing. Just for a second, but still. "You haven't really been talking, anyway. We're having this discussion entirely within your mind."

Ah, so that was it. "Am I crazy, then?" It was almost too much. "Is that what this is? I've snapped, and-"

"Your corporeal existence ended, and you metamorphosised into some form of astral entity, rather like solidified husk of psychic energy. How you and the others managed to maintain cohesion in that state, I have yet to understand. But it seems safe to say that, whatever it was, required vasts amounts of energy."

_Others?_ I wondered.

"You were somehow able to fashion a demi-plane… a pocket realm that, beyond the dimensions of your world, managed a form of stability. It existed, to use the term loosely, adjacent to both your home dimension, and the Astral plane. I am operating under the assumption that this was not an isolated occurrence, such beings have manifested before in your world and created similar dimensional manipulation?" The half-burned man grew impatient as I tried to form an answer.

"I guess…" was the best I could do. He didn't look pleased. I felt something reach into my mind, tingling, and ghostly fingers began sifting through memories. "Hey, stop-"

"An Incubus," the man said. "Fascinating. And such a novel approach."

"Incubator," I corrected with a grimace.

The half-charred man stared at me levelly. "I've heard it both ways."

Another few moments of silence followed. "Aha, intriguing." The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, heedless of the flames that began to singe his fingers. I stared, I admit in something like horror, as the hand visibly crisped, cooking almost like meat before the flesh began to blackened.

"So, you've had dealings with extraplanar entities before. I'd never imagined the _Incubators _could be so devious. Calm yourself and relax," he said, turning to look at me again, waving the charred remnant of his hand before his face. Even as I watched, the bony claw reknit itself, the flesh seeming to grow out in wet, red muscle before adopting a healthy, perfect coat of lightly tanned skin.

Despite the words this strange man was using, as he spoke it was like images and explanations began to form inside my mind's eye. I could see what he meant, the barrier existing somehow outside of the normal ebb-and-flow of what most people considered reality.

The silence stretched on for an uncomfortably long period of time, and left to themselves my thoughts turned toward brooding. I was snapped out of my ponderings as the man addressed me again. "I don't usually do this, but I must beg your pardon. I haven't forgotten about you, there's just a lot to process with this new information. Even for me," he chuckled. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "Regardless, there was a tremendous energy release inside this realm, which apparently ejacula-"

"Ejected!" I interrupted, before the thought could finish. This mental imagery that came along with the thoughts had it's down side, I was realizing.

He glared at me. "The energy release _ejected _you from the bubble between your own Prime Material plane, and the Astral realm. My terminology was more accurate, but yours will suffice. Randomness, fate, your own personal guardian archon, destiny… call it what you will. Somehow, you managed to maintain cohesion, psychically so to speak, and not get eaten by any of the soul devouring entities of that realm.

"And… empty, bodiless, your consciousness unsensing, unknowing… you somehow fell into the Planetary Well, which is essentially an Astral gravity, pulling things towards the solids. Ah, you mortals and your solids." It regarded my confused look with pity, and a burst of imagery and understanding washed across my mind. To him, solids meant everything I thought of as _real_.

"From there, I can cease having to speculate. You were pulled back into the material world by the planar backwash of a spell gone slightly… awry." Strangely, I got this vivid image in my head of a shadowy, thin figure surrounded by a forbidding forest. It was like he was meditating, sitting inside of an intricate circle that had somehow been carved or burnt into the ground.

With a flash of recognition, I recalled a sense of _something_, just before I woke up. It had been almost like a dream, or a nightmare, a sense of something vast and hungry and dangerous rushing by me, unseen but undoubtedly felt. And then, a feeling of being called, almost pulling me-

"I… I don't understand. _Any _of this. What's going on? Why am I here?"

The flames suddenly died, leaving me staring at his charred, blackened skin. The entire left side of his body was a burnt ruin, exactly half, oddly. I watched as the skin cracked, oozing clear fluid as the flesh tore, revealing glistening wet muscle and the white of bone and tendon beneath. I couldn't help but feel disgusted and a little afraid.

"We all must bear our suffering," the man said. "I'll let you know a secret," he continued, suddenly conspiratorial. "_That_ is the meaning of existence."

"What?" I asked, completely confused. I've heard that existence is suffering, but... "You're saying, suffering is the meaning of existence?" And then, it just kind of slipped out. "You're crazy."

The sky seemed to dim. Flames burst out across half of the man. "You are not the first to so accuse me." The darkness seemed to fade a fraction. "Sanity, being a social construct of an infinitely mundane species of incredibly limited perceptions, however, has given me sufficient reason to ignore that particular diagnosis.

"Through suffering, one must struggle, learn to endure. That is what life is, enduring against the formlessness of chaos, struggling against the insatiable appetite of entropy. That is why you are here. Why _any _of us are here."

"Entropy?" I remembered the word, vaguely, from somewhere.

"It's the tendency for all matter and energy in the universe to evolve toward a state of inert uniformity."

"That doesn't sound so bad," I speculated.

"Trust me, it is." I got a brief sense of an empty, dark universe, a swirling, scattered mass of dead and dying subatomic particles, slowing down as all of reality ground to a halt.

I shivered. "Okay, you're right." He looked at me with pitiless eyes.

"You'll find I often am."

* * *

I thought. "Okay, then, this world is dangerous, like you say. I'll contract for my old powers just like I did before."

The burning man looked at me with what I was certain was disgust. "There are two problems with your premise. The first, and most relevant, since your bartering is contingent upon it: you have no soul to bargain with."

My mouth seemed suddenly very dry.

"Secondly, and more importantly from my perspective, I don't make _contracts_; we gods are above such petty trickery. Those of us with any sense of self-respect, at least. I believe you know the only type of being that indulges in that depraved practice?"

"Incubators?" I guessed, not knowing any other possible answer. The man frowned.

"Yes, but what is an Incubator?"

"Some kind of alien from outer space, I think." I waited. The man was obviously not satisfied with my answer.

"The thought is right there, in your head; your own bizarre world acknowledges the fact, even if they no longer believe it!"

After a while, I thought I knew what he was getting at. "Um, the devil?"

"There is no 'the' devil. Archdevils and demonlords, yes, but there's a whole pack of them. There are, however, a near infinity of regular, plain-old, garden variety devils, _and demons_, both of which love tricking stupid mortals into parting with the only thing about them that actually matters." He left unsaid that I'd just essentially offered this thing away yet again, and I resolved that I wouldn't trade it away again. If I got it back, that is.

"Devils and demons, huh?"

"That is what I said, therefore that is what is true." It may have been my imagination, but I detected a note of petulance in his voice.

"Okay. Um, how are they different? I thought, you know, they're both, like, evil monsters from hell, basically..."

"To truly comprehend, I would have to devote more time than I am willing to informing you about the nuances that exist between the Nine Hells, the Abyss, Acheron, and the rest of the infernal planes, followed by a crash course in the thirteen and three-tenths eon battle known as the Blood War that has waged between the various demonic and diabolic entities in their eternal struggle for supremacy-"

"When you say it like that, you make it sound like you're not going to explain that stuff to me."

"Well, without knowing the difference between a Balor and a Pit Fiend, you'll have a hard time comprehending the subtleties."

"Boil it down for me."

"I don't understand your meaning."

"Just give me the basics." The man stared at me, slowly burning. "Like, you boil something to make it thicker, get the water out. The condensed version."

"A cooking idiom, how quaint. Your explanation is sufficient. Very well, I will proceed to boil you down. Devils tend to abide by their own twisted code, and are known for their cunning and well-laid plans. Demons are unpredictable monsters, but they can be tricky, and have been known to make deals with mortals when the mood suits them. Although it's not wise to trust one to stick to the bargain in the long run."

"Why would someone make a deal with something like that?"

He eyed me critically. "Why indeed? For the very reason you were so quick to lay your most precious possession at my feet. A quick road to power." I couldn't help but hang my head in shame.

"I… I wasn't thinking-"

"Then perhaps it's time you start."

Frowning, I looked into his eyes. "What am I supposed to do?"

He smiled. "Excellent. Finally a meaningful question. You're in a precarious position, as you well know. Other gods, and certainly demons, might be tempted to take advantage of your situation. Luckily, I am not other gods."

"What is a god, anyway?"

"There's no simple answer, but the simple answer is this: a being that can exist in multiple dimensions at the same time."

I waited for further explanation, but none was forthcoming. "Oh. Okay."

"It would be demeaning to my station to ask permission to continue, so I simply will. What you are supposed to do is this: offer to serve me."

"Serve?" I didn't like the sound of that.

He waved a burning, cracked hand in dismissal. "I have better things to do than micromanage my host of followers. Not so vast as other gods, perhaps," he muttered darkly, but then brightened. "I am, after all, quite selective. And I've decided to select you."

"I don't-"

"Understand?" he finished, rather rudely in my opinion. The derisive sigh wasn't helping my mood, either. "Here's how it works; I invest a miniscule portion of my own infinite power into your mortal vessel, and… you keep doing what you do."

Doing what I do? "That's it? What am I supposed to…"

"Exactly what you were doing before. There are not many examples of the extradimensional entities you used to fight back where you came from, but there are countless dangerous and sinister forces making life miserable for the races I have at least _some _hope for."

_Races? _I wondered. I needed time to think.

"You've got all the time you need. I'll ask again, one year from today. Just remember, this may be your second life, or it may be your thousandth, but it is most likely your last. Spend it wisely." The sky, the lake, the very island beneath my feet began to fade, growing insubstantial.

"Wait!" I cried, feeling myself somehow dwindling away into nothingness. "I need help-"

_Help yourself_, a voice thrummed through my mind. _Remember what you are, Sayaka von Seckendorff. Find your path and follow it._

* * *

I watched the rock bounce off the approaching figure harmlessly, clenching my hands in frustration. That jerk! It was just like before-

My right hand clenched around something, and I felt confidence surge up from somewhere deep inside, a place that had been locked up ever since I'd woken on the beach.

The green-skinned monster was almost on top of me, it's filthy hands thrusting towards my throat. I could see the wet, mucus-dripping pig nose quiver, a thin line of drool running past its thick, chapped lips. I brought my right arm up and around, a dark streak flashing across to bury itself in the oncoming creature. I felt a satisfying sensation as the blade bit deep, burying itself in my attacker's ribcage. The light faded from the thing's beady eyes, and I watched in morbid fascination as the corpse fell off my sword, nearly severed in two and opening like a hinge as the top half fell backward.

Shaking, I got to my feet. I stood there for some minutes before glancing down at the object clasped in a white-knuckle grip.

I held a sword. In some sense, _my _sword. It seemed to hum with connection, and holding it felt like an extension of my arm. It was different, though. It had changed.

My earlier swords had been a combination of East and West; a kind of saber-like katana. It was elegant, silver with an mirrored finish. They'd been made by magical energy.

This was solid. It was monochromatic, a sort of dark grey bordering on black. Where my former swords had curved back, perfect for cutting long, slashing wounds into an enemy, this blade curved forward. The top half was bent forward slightly, wide and convex, slimming down and turning concave near the hilt. Hefting it, if felt more like an axe than a sword, the weight distributed toward the tip rather than near the hilt.

I wiped the blood and other viscera off the blade, disgusted but determined. Shrugging for my own benefit, I knelt over the destroyed corpse and began to cut away at the filthy garment the creature had worn, amazed at how easily the keen edge of my sword sliced through the thick, cured hide. I tried humming to distract myself, but it just seemed too strange.

Tying one strip of the filthy material around my waist, the other around my chest, I debated my next course of action. The forest loomed in the distance, but I was filthy, covered with gore and wearing unwashed, probably lice-infested rags. The sun was falling towards the horizon, I was suddenly desperately hungry, and I had absolutely no idea where to go.

Grimly, I set out into the approaching dusk.

* * *

I spent a long time in that wilderness, fighting to survive. I'll tell you one thing; nature is not kind to bare feet. It was weeks before I came across any sign of humanity, and when I did, things hardly got easier.

A year later, I knelt before the burning man in my dented, battered armor, and received his blessing. Bloodied and betrayed… I felt like an entirely different person.

A year after that is where I will finally begin my story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Arrival_

I've never been much of a storyteller; instead I much prefer pointing out things that are wrong or unfair or just plain stupid, and try to see the ironic humor in the situations that don't drive me into an outraged frenzy.

I've _changed_. I can feel it. I mean, I'm still _me_, but... being that... mermaid, that was, like, really hard to describe. Back home, way back whenever, I could be a tad abrasive, I know... but deep down I craved a sense of acceptance. Of belonging. If that curly haired blonde hadn't kicked the bucket, things might have played out differently. I'd thought about that, a lot, during my purgatory in the wilderness. Maddeningly, I couldn't quite remember her name, or even her face, but... she'd been something special. Yet another failure. She'd been the first girl I'd really-

Back then, everything was so vague. The faceless blonde, and that defiant redhead that plagued my dreams, were some of the only things I could recall with any clarity.

It began with one of those half-remembered dreams, the day of the Carnival of Tears.

Cue scary music.

I woke up on the road. Well, really I was a few yards off of a wide path of dirt that disappeared into the distance in both directions. I'd been traveling east for the previous few days, on the last leg of my journey. My quest, you could say. It had been a _loooong _year. I'd made an entirely different kind of contract, avenged a fallen comrade, and traveled nearly a thousand miles. Stifling a groan, since I could detect the presence of others around me, I sat up. After so many repetitions of this abrupt realization upon waking, I was no longer alarmed. The soft sounds of sleeping and the muted crackle of the low fire were actually profoundly comforting.

Before this begins sounding overly romantic, let me be clear. Traveling on the dirt paths that connected each small bastion of civilization to another, surrounded by the ever-present dangers of bandits and deadly beasts and evil fey creatures with sadistic dispositions and sharp claws and sharper teeth... it's not _all _that enjoyable. Despite the occasional fight for your life, it's mostly a long, boring, plodding, jarringly bumpy journey. If you're lucky enough to have a horse, that is.

Traveling a couple hundred miles on foot is an entirely different story. Much, much worse.

The _very_ worst thing, however, is the sad truth that, once outside of a town, you will never, ever encounter a bathroom. Never. It's not so bad when there are trees around; you can hide behind them, and of course there's the whole convenience of leaves. But imagine, a well traveled road on a flat, grassy plain. You can be a hundred yards from the path and still have no sense of privacy. Or dignity. When you crouch a certain way... it's impossible to mistake. It's a good thing I have this cape. As long as I'm careful…

Not that "bathroom" here has the same connotation as back home. A word of advice: be careful. It's not nearly as easy to wash your hands without plumbing. And bring your own paper; I always buy a new book in every town I come across.

Gritting my teeth at the chill that raised hairs all over my body, I eased out from underneath my blanket, carefully untwisting the light shirt of interlocking links of chain I'd slept in, feeling it sharply pinch my abdomen as I shifted. It wasn't the most comfortable sleep-wear, and at night without a bedroll it could get really uncomfortable when it got cold. The thing is, sleeping in a bulky suit of metal armor half as massive as you are, well, it doesn't provide the body with much rest. Like so many other things in life, I learned that the hard way.

But you also don't want to wake up in the middle of the night with an owlbear approaching while you're wearing nothing more substantial than cloth. And when things go sideways, you never, ever seem to have the required two and a half minutes to get your gear correctly placed and strapped tight.

Again. Learned the hard way.

What's an owlbear? One of the apex predators that roam the wilderness of this part of the world. Use your imagination. It looks just like it sounds, as long as you aren't imagining wings. It was one of the reasons that Malgos was awake, staring out into the night.

The tall elf had already donned the heavy plate armor so similar to my own; last watch was nice because when you finished you were ready to start the day. And you didn't have to wake up in the middle of the night and then try to stay awake in the dark. The armor that the muscular elf wore had been the reason I'd stopped, the night before. Not one, but two fully armored men camped out alongside the road. It was a sight I'd never seen, and when one of them had turned out to be so short and stocky, my curiosity had been piqued. The woman sitting by the fire, strangely exotic features lit hauntingly from below, sent a shiver down my spine. Even in the orange glow of the flames, her pallor was almost ghostly.

Presently, Malgos turned, the long black hair streaked with white tied behind his head in the elvish fashion to expose his pointed ears. The eerie, stark white eyes seemed to stare blindly, but he could see as well as anyone. He'd mentioned it in passing, something about a family curse resulting from, in his words, "an indiscretion." Magic was capable of doing some crazy, messed up things, and this place was absolutely overflowing with it. I gave a tired wave as I left the camp, huddled in my cloak against the early morning chill, thinking about the mission I'd been given, and the ways in which one confronts impossible tasks.

At least there'd been no frost.

I find myself less of a people person than ever. Almost a year on the road, alone, had made me impatient. That being said, it doesn't matter how much of a badass you are; if something catches you sleeping, you're in all sorts of hurt. That's why it had felt so comforting when I'd woken up to the sounds of life.

So anyway, I got back to camp fifteen minutes later, having finished with my morning business and worked the kinks out of my aching neck. I'd spend, easily, months worth of nights sleeping along roads. Or worse, within the wilderness, which was almost everywhere. It was amazing to think of a world that hadn't been fully mapped, fully explored even. Strange.

A few of the others had begun stirring, so I took that as permission to begin putting on my armor. It was relaxing, a morning ritual that helped me clear my mind. The gleaming, intricately etched metal shone as the sun crested the horizon, the pieces clanging hollowly as they fit together seamlessly. Taking the individual components out of the oiled cloth I'd wrapped them in, I slipped into the underarmor, a tough but supple outfit of boiled leather and thick links of woven chain, with a steel plate or two sewn in for good measure in important areas, like, say, the groin. Alone, it looked quite risque, at least until I fastened the shoulder straps..

First I slipped into my metal-reinforced boots that were actually amazingly comfortable. If you had the gold, there were some astonishing things this world had to offer, and comfortable boots had been the priority after my month of suffering in the wilderness. The greaves came next, strapping around my legs, some extra padding along the interior helping prevent any excessive wear from riding my warhorse. This actually consisted of the greaves, the poleynus and the cuisses, each a separate series of plates protecting the calf, knee and thigh respectively. The thing is, most people don't really care about each and every piece of the armor, I've found, so I'll abbreviate as best I can. It's like when someone talks about all the individual notes and chords and stanzas and movements within a song. It's beautiful because its a song, not because you can dissect it down to each little detail. That's just being obnoxious.

You put the leg stuff on first, because once you belt down the breast plate and back plate, which are exactly what they sound like, you're mobility is constricted. My suit was personally crafted by an admittedly self-proclaimed master armorer of an Order of knights, and later enchanted with protective magics that made it even less restrictive, but I still can't touch my toes. Or hop over a five foot wall, at least not without a running start. And just as you'd expect, fifty pounds of leather and steel slow you down a bit, but that's why there's magic.

I know what you're thinking. Breast plate. No, it does not have massive armored jugs sticking out of the front. For one thing, that looks ridiculous. For another, the whole point of plate armor is to deflect a strike; things that catch a blade will instead channel that force. Not what I'd want having happen to the center of _my_ chest. Finally, there's not really a good reason to go around announcing you're a woman alone on the road; it's bad enough being so short. It tends to make foolish people bold, and result in trouble more often than not. It's a little squished in here, but what can you do? The first time you see a man take an arrow through the gut and fall down screaming, you remember all the clinks and clangs of that shit hitting you but barely being noticeable in the fight, and you realize how awesome armor is.

Finally I put on the vambrace and the rerebrace, covering my lower and upper arms, tying down these little things that were basically shields under the armpit, an otherwise potentially vulnerable area. The gauntlets were hooked to my belt for the moment, since I'd be needing to pack my gear and get on my horse.

Once my armor was in place, I picked up my sashimono, the pole that attached to my back and from which hung my banner. Knights were expected to represent, even if the rest of the Order had been destroyed. That way, the bad guys would have an easier time deciding to come after me. Or at least, I think that's the theory. It seemed to work for me.

My banner was simple; a blue crescent moon on a field of red.

Another fifteen minutes found the sun risen just above the horizon, right in our faces. I slid the visor down on my helmet, squinting in the distance as I chewed the last of my bacon breakfast. My horse cantered along as we headed east, our destination within reach.

If you ever have a chance to watch a dwarf mount a horse, you will not regret doing so. Lodrin, quite and surly this morning after enjoying copious amounts of drink the night before, swayed in his saddle alarmingly. Shorter than me, he was hairy, bearded, and easily twice as wide. His drinking companion, Tad, rode more confidently, tossing small morsels of bacon to the creature that followed him around. It was the size of a large dog, but it's head was a strange mix of feline and canine. He called it a thylacine. A human, Tad was a ranger, and looked dressed for the part. Behind him came another human, this man named Taj.

Yep. Tad… and Taj. This caused me immense confusion the prior evening, and would continue to do so in the future. Taj was less wild and unkempt, and more shifty and, I'd have to say, slimey. Not texture-wise, but in disposition. Crooked, I guess. He wasn't bad, necessarily, but he was certainly roguish. He was flanked by Malgos, looking surprisingly massive for an elf inside his armor, and Amaya, the strange, grey-shaded woman claiming to be from another dimension. The Shadow world, or something equally sinister sounding. Everything about her was colored in the black, white or more often a mix. Her hair was shoulder length and very pale grey. Her eyes were little orbs of shadow, pitch black. It was unsettling, at first.

I'd been passing through farmland for days, the residents of the fertile plains of this area already hard at work as the beginning of spring brought preparation for the upcoming year to a feverish pitch. I was never sure exactly what they were doing out there, mucking around and bending over and swinging their poles and stuff, but I had sense enough to realize whatever they did allowed me to eat. Hunting was time consuming and often fruitless. Unlike berry-picking, which by definition was quite fruitful.

As we approached the city, Callisto, capital of Arcadia, the traffic along the road increased substantially. Which meant instead of a handful of people visible ahead or behind us, there was somewhere between fifty and eighty, and an even larger group was clustering around the entrance to the city. We had to wait in line as a group of guards admitted people into the town. There weren't walls or anything, just what looked to be a moderate sized river on the opposite side of the city. I had the impression, however, that if we were to waltz on in, those armored guards would probably take umbrage with us. That's a fancy way of saying they'd be pissed.

So, we waited in line, Amaya looking around with her wide, inquisitive eyes while Taj rolled a coin through his fingers in boredom, never one to pass up a chance to show off. It didn't take all that long, and as we got near the entrance, I saw what was happening. Most people, farmers and wagon-drivers and folk like that were given a once over and then waved in. Anyone with a weapon, however, was taken off to the side. _Uh-oh,_ I thought to myself. Some places were strict about deadly weaponry, or armor that made it difficult if not impossible for the local guardian caste to enforce the law.

This country, supposedly, was different. But I'd seen a lot of messed up places in the past year, and was wary of any form of power structure until I had a good feel for what they were about. These people had absolutely no concept of checks and balances. There had been this one country, Galt, that had been swept up in a bloody civil war for over a generation, one group rising to power and trying to eradicate their enemies before being pulled down by the mob, led by a _new _group of raving maniacs in a perpetual cycle of death and destruction. This other guy had an entire nation convinced he was a god. A _god_. And they believed him. He even had his own priests! And don't even get me started on that degenerate filth masquerading as a king in Pitax!

My worries were mostly unjustified. As we were led to the side by several guards, one apiece, we were checked politely but firmly for weapons. As usual, I had to endure the incredulous stare of the one assigned to me as he goggled at my hair. We got a brief rundown of the rules of the town; don't kill anyone, don't steal, don't be an asshole. Pretty self explanatory, even if the last one was worryingly vague. The guards offered to store our weapons, which we had handed to them for inspection: my strange-looking chopping sword, the flamboyant Taj's daggers, or at least the ones he had chosen to reveal, the armored elf Malgos's enormous, curved no-dachi and a short stabbing sword that normally hung at his side. Lodrin's warhammer and the fur-clad Tad's longbow and greatsword were taken as well. Of us all, only Amaya had nothing to turn over. As one, we became alarmed at the suggestion and vehemently declined taking them up on their offer. The one who held my blade nodded knowingly.

What they did instead was interesting. We got to keep our stuff, but before we got the weapons back, they took out this spool of thin wire, wrapping the hilt to the scabbard a few dozen times in a complex, interweaving pattern. It went surprisingly quickly, and looked quite pretty, actually. A cowled man stepped forward, touching each of the wrappings in the middle, where the crossing strands met, and a tiny glyph appeared. I gasped, the sight of the shimmering blue rune unleashing a flood of memories. Twisting bulbous sigils that danced madly in the chaos of the labyrinth, slashing my way through before confronting the winged box with the strange moving pictures, trying so hard to save... something. Some_one._

I noticed one of the guards looking at me, and worked at regaining my composure. The flash had been so vivid; bizarrely surreal but at the same time as detailed as what I was experiencing at the moment. I shook my head, took my sword and headed into town.

The city was obviously still a work in progress. Looking around, empty lots and partially constructed buildings dotted the area, but other structures could be seen, clean and new and for all I could tell, well built. Immediately before us was a huge complex including a large building, several barns, a giant corral, and various stables and outbuildings. Cattle, horses and some other domesticated creatures could be seen milling within. It stank.

We'd entered from the north, and heading south past the animals, my eyes were drawn to an eerie cemetery that lay further along the edge of town. There was something creepily familiar about the feeling it gave me. Glancing away, I could see what appeared to be a large, multi-story mansion adjacent to the graveyard, and beyond both, the edifice of an immense estate rose into the air, a high stone wall surrounding the huge, winged structure that loomed a few blocks away.

Winged in the sense that, there was a big main building, with two additional buildings jutting out from the sides. Not that it actually possessed wings, and potentially the capability for flight. Not an entirely ridiculous idea, given some of the sights I've seen during the past year. I've been told that there's a hut that walks around on gigantic chicken legs, somewhere far to the north. And all those legends about floating castles.

We turned left, heading deeper into the town. An immense black basalt tower stood watch, its iron-barred windows ensuring everyone knew they looked upon a prison. "What do you think of that?" Tad asked, sounding a little nervous to my keen and discerning ears. His animal was glued to his leg, its strange head darting around anxiously as people passed us with interested expressions and outright curiosity. Except for the ones who looked sad, or were flat out sobbing as they walked.

"Too early ta tell," said Lodrin gruffly.

"Nothing wrong with a little law and order, is there?" I asked. I mean, why were they getting freaked out about a mean looking jail?

"This is an new kingdom trying to reclaim the wilderness, remember." That was Malgos's contribution. "Frontier justice can be tough on the stomach. Even worse on the neck," he added grimly, unconsciously checking to make sure the hilt of the big sword over his shoulder was sitting just so.

"There's practically nobody in there," I mentioned casually, feeling compelled to check the hilt of my own weapon. The place looked like it could fit a hundred people inside, possibly more depending on what was below ground. I could feel exactly one person who made my danger sense tingle. The others gave me strange looks, from quizzical to disbelieving.

"How can you possibly know that?" asked Taj, his oily smile forgotten. The group waited for me to answer as we continued to ride through the city street, neighborhoods of relatively clean and safe-looking houses on our left.

I debated lying, but knew I wasn't particularly good at it. "I just, ah, know." That didn't work. "I can sense it. We passed close by, where I would have sort of felt if there'd been any, um, dangerous people inside." This was perhaps the most outrageous of my new abilities. The concept of being able to detect the presence of evil, a relatively subjective concept to begin with... but a god had told me it was true, and if you can't believe a god, you may as well just give up right now, right?

A part of me wondered if I'd been a little too quick to believe him. The feeling of certainty it had given me was so liberating.

The humans were the ones who reacted first, even Taj's attempt to mask his sudden unease failing. The non-humans were stoic, confident in the purity of their intrinsic motivations. It was fascinating to see.

Of course they'd all passed the test, or scan, or whatever you want to call it. If I could trust my intuition, I knew none of them were wicked or evil. At least, not _mostly _evil or wicked. I couldn't exactly tell how it worked. None of them were hero material, no questing paladin bleeding righteousness and seeking to fight against the eternal darkness with his last breath. I'd actually had the mixed pleasure of meeting a few of those types heading up to that great meat grinder far to the north.

"You can't... tell what we're thinking, can you?" Tad asked hesitantly. The others began to look a little more concerned.

"No. I mean, I _could_, but I won't," I lied, just to keep them honest. I had my suspicions about the humans, the elf was too quiet to get a fix on, the dwarf was a dwarf, and the ephemeral shadow-land lady was mysterious enough for me to not really be able to trust her yet. "It's just a feeling I get, like having an itch." I didn't mention how many times that sense had saved my ass from some hidden menace.

They kept glancing at me as we walked, passing by an immaculate garden, complete with a small pond and mossy stones, that lay behind a tall iron fence that separated the street from a large, elegant-looking building. A hotel or something? The stone shingles were colored, and the walls were painted with a subtle but brilliant rose.

Two immense stone structures stood before us to the left, adjacent to the wide, placid river that ran parallel to us a block ahead. The industrial looking buildings billowed steam, and the clang of metal could be heard as the wind changed, and suddenly the smell of smoke and molten metal wafted across the street. To the right of those lay a pair of large, wooden buildings, stacks upon stacks of barrels laid out in its yard. Looking further to the right, there was what looked to be a small campus; large, academic buildings sharing space with functional-looking dormitories. Beyond that, a small crowd milled, the first gathering of people we'd seen.

I wanted to go see what was going on. I turned to the others, just as Lodrin exclaimed, "Will ya look at them barrels? That's a brewery, or I'm an elf!" Malgos frowned as the dwarf began hustling towards the pair of buildings set up across an empty lot, his short legs moving him across the distant with surprising spryness. The others followed the stout figure eagerly, except for Amaya, who merely shrugged and trailed behind.

The man in the shop who sold us drinks told us why the city seemed so deserted; apparently the carnival was in town. I could almost feel my ears perking up. It had been so long since I'd done anything, well, _fun_. He made some wild guesses about the nature of its attractions with Taj, who seemed to know something about the business. I tried to be patient, but couldn't help wondering why speculate when we could just go and see?.

That's when we heard about the attack, a bunch of townsfolk slain at the hands of some ten foot tall evil demon woman who apparently shot arrows and lightning bolts out of her eyes, from the back of her monstrous owlbear no less. See! I told you they were a danger around here. Supposedly, this particular one had been as large as a two story building... but people tend to exaggerate when remembering stressful situations. In their defense, though, it had torn down the entire side of an enormous theater that sat adjacent to the college I'd seen to the south, wounding both patrons and national pride in the process.

Knallhart was gone, and my reason for being here with them. They'd ridden off to try and take care of that menace. According to the brewer, or vintner, or distiller, or whatever the guy in the shop who sold the guys liquor was, they'd been out on some kind of rescue mission to find, of all things, a child who'd gone missing. Oh man, my heart just about melted there. The leaders of this place went out to help some little kid! I was more hopeful than ever that this place would finally be the spot where I found out where I fit in.

I was getting so tired of wandering. And worse, that sense of purposelessness that had crept over me during my trek north.

Knallhart. It's a group of people, or an elite organization, take your pick. I guess you could call them a bunch of adventurers, but such a thing would never be said in polite company. They're the one's who established this small, insignificant realm surrounded by barbarians to the west, a brewing civil war to the north, the chaotic River Kingdoms to the south, and nothing but mountains to the east.

But it had potential. A vision, if that wasn't stating it with too much grandiloquence. That, and the Autarch was someone I felt, literally, compelled to meet.

Stupid god dreams.

We sipped a surprisingly refreshing beverage made from, among other things, sweet, rich honey. Well, some of us sipped, the others gulped. Talk turned to what we should do next.

"There's the brothels," remarked Tad. His little beast had been tethered up outside, along with our horses. They'd been too large to fit through the door.

"That carnival sounds fun," proposed Amaya. I could tell she felt strong about it because she had talked.

I couldn't help thinking their priorities were out of place; I was here to try to impress the leader of a nation, not get off... track, going to some traveling freak show. "Don't you think we should, maybe, explore this town a little? Get to know this place? The lay of the land, and all that. There was that cemetery, and I'd like to get a look at that walled compound, and..." I broke off, seeing the glazed look in my companions' eyes.

"Plenty of time for that later. I want to go check out the carnival, too," muttered Taj, nodding to himself and playing with an unsheathed dagger, blatantly flouting the whole no-weapon-drawing rule we'd been told. I punched his arm, a little harder than I intended, forgetting just how strong I was in this body. The others reached a consensus and, a little grumpily, I followed them back out of town, heading around a hill to the spectacle that awaited beyond.

*Yawn* I know! Hooray for me, I woke up and walked to a town. And I didn't even have to do the walking! This is truly the stuff epic adventures are made of. Next time there will be freaks and monsters and displays of prowess and strength.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three: The Fun Before the Storm**

_So this is where all the people were,_ I thought to myself. As we crested the hill, the carnival came into view. The first thing I noticed was the people milling about, the second was the thick wall of blue ice that surrounded the encampment, glistening in the early afternoon sun.

We'd looped back up and around after exiting Callisto, heading further upriver. Some kind of rule or statute prevented monsters and dangerous animals from being brought within city limits, with exceptions being made for individuals like the hunter, Tad and his cat-wolf companion. The actual name for the creature was a thylacine, but mine describes it better and is easier to say. By this point, it had gotten underfoot often enough where I was determined to kick the damn thing as hard as I could if it got in the way again. Stumbling while fully encased head to toe in body armor is something you generally want to avoid at all costs.

At this point, you might be wondering: who the hell wears armor to a carnival? I'd like to tell you that, no, it wasn't usual that I'd strut around in my fifty pounds of shiny metal. I'd had a dream, or something, a premonition of danger. That somehow, with the attack on the town earlier that week, it was a prudent choice to make in case of emergency.

But the truth was, I'd gotten to _like _my suit. Wearing it was almost… comforting. Like I was born for it. Not only did it make me all but impervious to most of the danger I could possibly come across within a small city like this, but as a bonus it masked my gender, race, age and even hair, each of which tended to attract undue attention, as long as I wore my helmet. It also added a couple inches to my height and about fifty percent to my mass, which can be surprisingly important when you're going toe-to-toe with someone. Try pushing over a fat man some time and you'll see what I mean.

Besides, everyone else was doing it, so I didn't feel too uncomfortable.

Taj was very animated as we waited to get in, looking through the gate eagerly and chattering with excitement. "Did I tell you that I am no stranger to the life of a wandering entertainer?" I heard the unmistakable sound of a groan. "I grew up in the traveling menagerie, never knowing my true family. Perhaps it is best this way, for I cannot imagine a better mother than Ursala, the bearded lady, nor a better father than Gregor the strong man, nor a better uncle than Stan the beast tamer, nor a better older sister than Tamitha the fortune teller-"

I tuned out the story, which, in point of fact, had been told us on at least two occasions within the past twenty hours, each time with minor variations and inconsistencies. Instead, I watched a young girl pleading with the ticket salesman who stood like some kind of guardian before the fanciful gate. I looked up, and saw the sign which read: _Abandon Hope, All Ye-_

No, what it actually said was _Quinn's Carnival_. Yawn.

The man who greeted us was a snaggle-toothed carney with small, nervous hands, flanked by a pair of muscle-bound strongmen. Snappily dressed in a striped suit, a flamboyant purple scarf and deep read cloak, he needlessly exhorted the people already waiting in line to purchase their admission to line up and buy tickets. He stood on a stool, behind a tall counter. Entry was eight copper. One thing about money in this place; their names for coinage is completely unimaginative.

Amaya, partly hidden beneath a dark grey cowl, eyed the man's neck hungrily. I'd noticed her predisposition towards garish colors, the more violent and shocking, the more fascinating they were to her. I'd caught her looking at my hair once or twice in a way that almost made me fear for my scalp.

I'd listened to the girl pleading and begging to be let in since we'd gotten in line, and felt bad for her. When I approached the heartless ticket salesman, I offered to pay for the girl and a few other children who were lingering nearby. Okay, let's see... eight copper for a ticket, ten copper to a silver, ten silver to a gold, five tickets would come to...

He looked at me with condescendingly polite skepticism. "A...hem? Are you certain, sir, that is wise?" His eyebrows rose astoundingly high on his forehead as he asked, "You realize that, since they have no money themselves, they will make merely make nuisances of themselves when they get inside?"

The others were clustered behind me, waiting, so I was feeling a little rushed. _Stupid fucking math!_ I slipped a golden coin into his jar, muttering "Keep the change," and after staring at the coin for a moment he punched out five tickets and handed them to me with a snaggle-toothed smile, already looking over my shoulder for the next customer. He searched in vain, not finding him until Lodrin cleared his throat gruffly from down below and the seller peered over the counter in surprise.

"You overpaid," Taj pointed out, drowning out the Dwarven oaths that had begun behind us.

"A small tip never hurts, right?" I asked, confused.

"Ah, not so small. You gave him more than the price of admission for you and all those little urchins."

Wow, he was right. They _were _urchins. "Okay, well whatever," was my reply as I tried to cover my embarrassment. I was seriously starting to regret sleeping through so many math classes; worryingly, this was not the first time. "So he gets a generous tip, then."

He shook his head sadly, the oily smile never leaving his face. "There's a special name for people like you that carnival folk have." He paused dramatically. "It's called a _mark_."

I didn't respond, knowing him well enough by now to realize an explanation was coming.

"As in, marked for future hustling. And don't think those kids didn't notice, either. Watch your coin purse," he finished ominously.

The sun was still high in the late afternoon sky, the brisk spring air not nearly cold enough to support the immense wall of ice around us. It was a good ten feet high and almost as thick, surrounding the entire perimeter of the carnival that had been set up. It was decidedly strange, and strangely impressive.

The encampment sprawled across the placid river north of town, the surface of which had been frozen solid. Throngs of people wandered about, clutching food, loved ones, or the occasional small, strangey creepy-looking doll. A cluster of tents were set up ahead of us; further on I could see what looked like a large wheel sticking up over some scattered wagons, some of which looked inhabited while others seemed to contain games.

To our left, hugging the undoubtedly magically-constructed wall of ice, a string of more functional appearing wagons were lined up, a few desultory figures shuffling around. Past these, a huge pavillion-style tent rose twenty feet into the air, a flag at the top displaying a mug of some kind of foaming beverage displayed for all to see as it snapped in the wind.

Amaya pointed to the right, where a freshly constructed wooden bridge spanned out over the frozen river, leading to a mixed group of tents and wagons. The wind shifted, and I could make out a heady mixture of mouth-watering smells. The grey lady said, simply, "I want pie."

Too bad for her, after some intense discussion we voted down food in favor of checking out the freak show, since it was on the way. I couldn't keep from rubbing my hands together like some evil villain; I'd never gotten to see an actual freak show before.

It certainly lived up to its title. I was a little worried at first, when the "dog girl" came out and I realized she was merely an unfortunately ugly woman with some extra hair glued on. It got better when the proprietor pulled out the "Living Dead Baby," which was a disgusting, moving fetus-looking monstrosity contained within large glass jar. I cast out my senses, and was alarmed to find that the thing emanated a foul aura. I'd hoped it was being moved by strings or something.

Just as the main attraction was about to be presented, Amaya paid the man to be able to hold the disgusting jar with the nasty floating thing inside. I felt myself shudder as I noticed her seeming to caress the surface of the glass, staring at the creature within. Shaking my head, I kept a worried eye on her until the ground began to shake.

Looking over, I heard the crowd that had formed collectively gasp as a gigantic figure stepped out of an almost comically small tent. Towering high, high above the rest of us, the creature stood up... and up, and up. It's massive shadow engulfed the crowd, blotting out the sun that had crept halfway down to the horizon. Seriously, the thing was a good four meters tall. And twice as tall has a way of looking _twenty _times as tall when you're standing at something's feet.

The creature carried a large sack in one hand, lumbering slowly toward us. As people around me began to back up fearfully, I suddenly wondered if I should be joining them. Or perhaps even pulling my sword… my hand was itching to yank it out of the wire mesh that had been placed on it earlier. The creature's body was oddly misshapen; the tree-trunk legs, massive body and long, swinging arms gave it a distinctly primitive appearance, and it's face reminded me of the filthy green-skinned race with their pig snouts, beady eyes and jagged teeth known as orcs. But the way its head sat on the shoulders, not in the center where the spine would be, but off to the side... it looked very odd.

As it approached, I realized what was wrong. Something was missing. I looked carefully, seeing the wide stump that sat to the side of the thing's head. It placed the large leather bag at its feet, and beckoned the children forward. Hesitantly, they approached, but scurried backwards when the bag shifted, untouched.

"Ghaar, no worry, wee uns," the giant bellowed, a hint of mirth in its gravelly voice. "Come close. See wut's innit." The children approached, gathering around, as the creature's massive, thick fingers undid the simple knot around the bag. He opened it up, the kids peering inside-

"AAHHH!" "EEEEK!" A half dozen screams burst out as the children jumped and fled as the giant roared with laughter. I may have smiled myself, and am certain I did when it bent over and picked up a large, dark object from the ground.

"It's me head," the thing grinned, holding out the dead-looking thing to the crowd, and applause broke out, along with some shaky laughter.

I'd never seen an ettin before. I'd only heard about giants; ettins were unique in that they possessed two heads, equally autonomous. Except for sharing a body, I guess. I appreciated the irony: in this case, the freak being a one-headed ettin.

Of course I tried to feel if he had what I'd come to think of as an "evil aura". To my surprise, the creature did not. It conversed with us for a short time, then retreated into its tiny tent.

* * *

Amaya spent the next half-hour purchasing pie after pie, consuming the first with startling violence and dropping the rest, nearly a dozen, into her magical bag, "For later." She also purchased a colorful red scarf off of a woman for an exorbitant price, despite numerous loud protests from Taj, who by the end of the deal wore a look of disgusted dismay.

Then we got to the games. I was kind of disappointed; there was a big wheel to spin, almost like on that one show, and there was a ring toss deal with, you guessed it, bottles.

Tad shouldered his way past me, having made a point of making "colorful" comments about every single woman we seemed to see, loudly and in front of me. Mocking some of their attributes, grotesquely admiring others. It was getting annoying. Anyway, he marched over to the spinning thing, a banner overhead proclaiming it to be "The Titan's Wheel".

"Lemme show you what a man can do," he muttered challengingly. I rolled my eyes, but my hand nevertheless crept towards the hilt of my sword before I stopped it. I watched, knowing that the man was indeed strong. Confidently, he gave the giant wooden circle a spin with all his might… and I watched the thing click four times before stopping.

There were, perhaps, twenty segments to the wheel. He hadn't even made it halfway around. Not even halfway halfway, whatever mysterious fraction that is called. From inside my helmet, I grinned wildly. This was too perfect.

Mumbling something about "fixed," and "rigged," a stoop-shouldered Tad shuffled away from the wheel, and I gave him a friendly shoulder-in-the-chest as I walked by him, paying the man at the wheel several silver for the privilege. That's how they got you, here. The price of admission was cheap, but everything else was sky-high.

Come on, burning man, I thought fervently. I know you don't answer prayers, but all I want is to be able to show up this pig of an ass… I gripped a peg halfway up the wheel. The thing was, indeed, titanic; easily three or four meters. Up close, it appeared much more massive. Holding my breath, I pulled down with all my might-

I stepped back, watching the thing spin around. Two full rotations; the attendant watched, goggle-eyed, as it passed the starting position for the second time. Less jovial than a few moments ago, the man silently handed me two silvery tokens. "What's this?" I inquired.

"Game tokens; you get them for winning the games here," the man explained, eyeing a couple of potential customers standing behind us.

"What are they for?" I said, more demandingly.

He looked back at me. "You turn them in for prizes. The big prize are these special dolls. They're in the commissary tent, go ask 'em over there."

I took off my helmet so that the annoying human got a good look at my smirk. Then I batted my eyes prettily, pocketing my winnings. I heard someone sputtering behind me. "B-blue hair? Is that really-" and left, determined to ignore any attention I drew.

I walked over to the ring toss game, watching Taj expertly flick a few of the rings into the massive grid of bottles, each one plinking away. He bought another batch, again with no result. I couldn't help but wonder at his supposed worldliness as the wiry man bought yet another batch of rings. I decided to join him, even though it looked impossible.

The first two bounced out of the grid entirely. I bit down on a slight sense of irritation; the smile my failure brought to Taj's conniving face had been my motivation to begin with. I tossed the third, and watched it bounce… directly on to the bottle that appeared to be in the very center.

"What?" cried Taj. Remember, Taj is the boastful, talkative rogue human who has two daggers and a kind of sleazy charm. Tad, my earlier opponent, was a sour-smelling ranger woodsman with a pet cat-wolf and a large two handed sword. Anyway, it was Taj who was looking at me. I watched the man behind the counter reach down, and take the ring off of the special, expensive looking bottle… only to grab the plain looking one that stood next to it.

"Ah, it was _that _one," Taj pointed out before I could think to, his sharp eyes and worldly ways allowing him to notice the man's sleight of hand. The game worker shot the wiry man an evil glance, and picked up the proper bottle, handing it to me with a decidedly surly expression. It made the victory all the sweeter.

I couldn't believe my luck. I'd never won anything before! And now, twice in on day… "So… what is this?" I asked, before turning the bottle to read the label. The flowing, elaborate cursive script was clearly Elvish, and I could read it clearly. It was just a name, though, not something I'd assign any meaning to. Taj whistled, leering over my shoulder.

"That's some four hundred some year old elf firewine," he whispered, and was somehow holding the bottle up to the sun, inspecting it. I glanced at my hands, which hung stupidly in the air before me, empty. "Uncorked, wax intact… you can see the magical seal still present here."

"Uhh, okay," I said uncertainly.

"It's worth a lot of money," the rogue explained. It was my turn to whistle when he mentioned a price. I walked over to Amaya, who was playing with her scarf and had evidence of more pie on her cheeks. I mimed wiping at her cheeks, but she just stared at me in confusion. I placed my ornate bottle inside the bag at her feet, watching it get sucked into, essentially, another dimension. It seems utterly crazy, but I have a vivid recollection of a black haired evil-eyed girl who did exactly the same thing with a magical shield. Bizarre, right? Still, every time I reach into that bag, it's like an itch running down my spine.

Next up was a really cool maze. And not because it, too, was made entirely of ice. The place refracted with a zillion or so rainbows as the sun pierced the smooth, crystalline structure. As we entered, the man to extorted more of my dwindling silver from me lay down the only rule. "If you're not out of there in half an hour, we let the minotaur loose." He looked at us strangely at the mixture of eager smiles and blank, unfazed stares. Muttering to himself about "crazy locals" he let us through the gate.

The maze seemed to be nothing but dead ends. Tad led us in, being a supposed expert tracker, but when we passed the same spot twice we made him stop. I got us to the center, where we found the golden ring we needed to claim our prize, but getting out was trickier, and eventually the grey-skinned Amaya backtracked us and found the right path out.

The man at the end gave us each a pair of tokens, laughing about how so few of those who'd gone into the maze had come out. This side, at least. There was, indeed, a monstrous three meter tall man, obnoxiously muscular, with hoofed feet and a massive, villainous-looking bull head. I definitely felt a nasty aura coming off that thing, never mind the smell.

As we walked back to where all the tents and stuff were, there was a collective gasp among the crowd. Since leaving the maze, we'd seen a marked increase of attendees, and the throng surrounding us began looking where some people were pointing. Feeling like a lemming, I turned my head, and watched an exotically dressed man stride down the path, people parting before him.

Suddenly the man stopped. Whipping around, long cloak fluttering behind him, he leapt high into the air, coming down on a stack of crates before pushing off, landing on one foot, balanced atop a high pole... a pole, I noticed, that appeared to be suspiciously purposeless. Continuing his performance, the man spun around, and there were two small swords in his hands now as he twirled, flashing darkly in the midday sun in an intricate, interwoven display of swordsmanship. He paused, then hurled himself off of the pole, somersaulting the fifteen or so feet to the ground, rolling as he landed. He stood, and caught both swords as they spun through the air just before they would have impaled a suddenly-frightened-looking onlooker.

People began to clap and cheer, and I couldn't help but feel impressed at the man's acrobatics. Before I could get a real good look at him, though, he was gone. Literally, as in vanished before my eyes. The crowd let out a collective gasp, then began applauding thunderously.

"That was Quinn," a man nearby explained. "Isn't he amazing?"

_Quinn, of Quinn's Carnival, perhaps?_ My mind is like a steel trap sometimes, I know.

"He had magic all over him," Amaya commented casually. We glanced over at the quiet, ethereal woman. "I checked," she admitted. Casting magic on other people without their permission or awareness was generally frowned upon, and rightly so. Even spells as "innocuous" as those designed to simply detect the presence of magical auras.

We approached the commissary tent, and decided to take a look. There were various pieces of crap being offered as prizes for one or two of the tokens. Pure garbage. Then, there were the dolls.

There was just something… off about them. They kind of creeped me out. But hell, I had the tokens, so what was I supposed to do? I turned them in, hastily stuffing the vaguely-ugly thing inside the sorceress's miraculous backpack.

Wandering outside, we saw the brightly colored "Pleasure Tent" in the distance. The dwarf wanted to "Get his beard wet," which, after my shocked outburst, he explained meant he intended to quench his thirst with some strong ale. The others were not so circumspect, Taj and Tad nudging each other with their elbows.

"I want one of those dolls," said Amaya. Strangely, Lodrin, then the humans, and even the dour-faced Malgos agreed with her sentiment. We decided to go back and try our hand at the games again.

I won again at the Titan's Wheel. This was after Malgos had made three unsuccessful attempts, and my sense victory was deflated a bit by his obvious shame and disappointment. Amaya must have done something tricky, because she too succeeded at getting the wheel to go all the way around. The attendant gave us the tokens and politely asked us to fuck off, never wanting to see our ugly faces again.

We went back to the prize tent. This time, everyone got dolls. After a few moments holding them, though, every last one ended up in the bag, except for Lodrin's, who he gave to a random girl he saw as we walked by.

Their masculinity restored, the men decided they had important things to attend to in the seedy-looking "Pleasure Tent". Amaya and I could only shrug in resigned disgust. Better them than us, was probably our mutual thought. Wordlessly, we entered the nearby refreshment tent, and ordered.

"Wanna share?" I asked. It was possible to use magic to cure the wooziness that came from indulging in too much drink, but no magic would keep you from passing out, and if you got too wasted spells were difficult and potentially dangerous. One thing about being a girl; your serving of liquor is almost always generous.

A few minutes later, a large mug of some red-brown fluid before us, we took turns sipping from the vessel. It was thick, with a faint, unpleasant vegetable taste underneath the pint or so of honey that must have gone into it. The sweetness was delicious, and I gulped the drink eagerly for a moment before handing it back.

I sighed in contentment, kicking up my feet. Without the men, it was almost peaceful.


End file.
